semifreakingnormal | ( 008 ) Ω ( Video )

Uh--

[Scott is realizing, once the feed is on, that he probably should have cleaned up before addressing the network. Because he's kinda bloody right now. It's all over his shirt - which is torn in a couple places - and there's more blood drying on his jaw. But he looks very human, which is not something he could have said forty minutes ago.

He glances off screen at someone - he's in Zero, though its occupants aren't visible - and scratches the back of his head.]

This new guy jumped me? He says his name is Roderick.

[And Roderick is getting a cameo, now. Wave, Roderick. (He is actually waving.)]

I brought him to zero, I'm not...really sure what else I'm supposed to do with him.

[Scoot don't admit to having no clue in front of the bad guys, sigh.]

[Private to Peter]

[He's been trying not to think about this. Like, in a big, huge freaking way, because it still freaks him out a bit. He's here because he doesn't want to be a werewolf forever, he doesn't want to be one at all anymore. Giving into it a little today has left him unsettled, and between that and what Lydia told him, He's not really sure what to think anymore.

Luckily, he knows a freaking super hero.

Who he probably should have contacted after he finished cleaning up, but at least the bloody shirt is gone. He's in the middle of scrubbing the blood off his chin and chest.]

Hey dude, do you wanna come over? I have a Playstation 4.

[Still can't believe this thing exists okay u_u]

[Private to the Admiral + spam for Lindsey]

Can you...jeez...Can you bring back, um--[He's not entirely sure of the man's name, so he turns the camera on Lindsey's form for a moment.] I'm...I'm gonna take him to the infirmary.

[He clicks off there, shoves the communicator in his pocket, and jesus. He has no idea what to do here, but at least...at least he doesn't ahve to worry about wounds, right? Carefully, he starts to lift the corpse - man, somehow getting the weight over his shoulder. He shudders as blood stains his shirt, swallows hard against the urge to vomit, and for a long moment, he has to just close his eyes. The smell of blood is so strong, it's overwhelming, and he's having trouble shutting it out.

Eventually, he puts one foot in front of the other, and repeats, repeats, manages to move forward jerkily toward the infirmary.]

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I guess, but Jackson probably would have like. Rebelled or something. And they like him more than they like me.

Or they're more afraid of him. I can't imagine anyone liking someone else more than you.

[And then Daneca realizes what she says and immediately flushes.]

I mean someone like that. He sounds like a real jerk.